Random musings on whatever subject strikes my fancy that day.

After moving to Rochester NY from Baltimore (by way of Fort Lauderdale), it did not take me long to figure out that Buffalo wings are only really any good here in Western NY. What passes for “Buffalo wings” where I come from originally are usually under-cooked, and can be seasoned with some really odd-tasting sauces that are exactly like Boss Sauce as long as you only consider color.

By the same token, nothing that can be called a crab cake (without snickering) can be found anywhere more than 50 miles from the nearest point on the Chesapeake Bay. What people get by with and call “crab cakes” are often seasoned or prepared in some truly strange fashion. I have seen crab cakes offered with remoulade. As if there’s something other than cocktail or tartar sauce that should be considered! I have seen crab cakes offered that were basically Old Bay-spiced bread croquettes on a bun, over which someone had waved a single piece of lump Maryland Blue.

But until today, I have never seen anything as ridiculous as this menu item:

Where on Earth did someone get the bonkers idea that a mediocre crab cake should be served with cheddar cheese? And I am characteristically a very curious person, but I find myself not even remotely interested to learn what “bistro sauce” might be.

My rule stands. No wings in Baltimore, and no crab cakes in Western NY.